


the ends of the earth

by hairbearstare



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Drinking, F/M, M/M, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9637322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hairbearstare/pseuds/hairbearstare
Summary: Arthur is taking time off of university and work to travel the world. He meets Eames on a boat, and things just fall apart from there.





	1. Pakbeng

**Author's Note:**

> Weeee something new. I'm so rusty, I feel like, but these guys just talk so easily in my head. I have ideas for other chapters that I'm going to be outlining soon, when I have time. So expect that in the near future.
> 
> Enjoy this first little bit for now, though!

Arthur was lounging by the pool at his hostel, somewhere off some little side street in Luang Prabang in Laos. Having a pool was a luxury while backpacking. Weeks on the road, he could swim in waterfalls or lounge at the beach—but having a _pool_ at his hostel, where he could just relax in the heat, and drink Beerlao with his toes in the water... that was a treat.

Ariadne paddled lazily through the water, coming over and resting her arms on the side of the pool. “This is great. I think this is my favourite city in Asia so far.”

“You say that in every city we go to,” Arthur snorted, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sun.

“Yeah, that's true,” Ariadne sighed. “It's too bad we're leaving tomorrow though. I could get used to living like this.”

“But we're going to Thailand, which is supposed to be great. And we get to take a boat there.”

“I know. This is what traveling's about, right? Falling in love with every single place and then moving along to other awesome places.”

Arthur smiled, and stretched his arms above his head, then rolled onto his stomach. The heat was pleasant against his skin, starting to dip low in the sky. They could go out again that night, but they had to get up pretty early to catch the boat to Thailand. It was a two-day trip down the Mekong River to get to Huay Xai so they could cross the border into Chiang Khong. He would see what Dom and Mal wanted to do, but another round of the bars and then the bowling alley didn't sound like so bad an idea.

“I'm going to grab a beer,” Aridane said as she climbed out of the pool.

“Get me one, too!” Arthur called after her.

 

-

 

Arthur had been traveling for about a month and a half. He bought a cheap flight from his city on the west coast of Canada, flying into Ho Chi Minh City. He had decided that after two years of non-stop working, university and basically having no time for anything fun, that he needed a break. He was burnt out, stressed all the time, and living with his parents didn't help.

So he hopped on a plane and didn't look back.

He was glad to meet Ariadne in Hoi An. He had made friends at his previous hostels, but she was the first one who came along and didn't really have a set plan, so she could join him for however long she wanted to. So far, she'd stuck around.

After moving north through Vietnam, the two of them met Dom and Mal in Hanoi. After sharing some cheap beer together, they found out that the two of them had met in Goa in southern India and had been an item ever since. They'd been all through India, Nepal, and southern China together before deciding to move through Southeast Asia. They were heading the same route as Arthur and Ariadne, so they decided to come along as well.

Arthur didn't have too many good friends back home, so meeting like minded people that he got along with like this was nice. Different. It was like Arthur could reinvent himself as a new person. Be someone fun, and not so stressed and uptight all the time. Being able to cut loose seven days a week and have next to no set plans really did wonders for his mental health.

 

-

 

Arthur groaned as he was woken suddenly by a cold beer being pressed against his cheek.

“Drink up! It's past lunchtime.”

Ariadne grinned down at him. Arthur knit his eyebrows together and swatted her hand away. “Come on. I was having such a good nap.”

“Yeah, but I'm bored. I can only read for so long without my eyes feeling like they're going to fall out.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but took the beer and took a swig. “Okay, you win. I suppose I can entertain you for awhile.”

“Good!” Ariadne put her hands on her hips. “There's this little room at the back of the boat. A bunch of people are playing cards and stuff. Plus I saw a cute boy go back there and I might want to go say hello.”

Arthur laughed as her eyebrows wiggled.

“As nice as it's been traveling with you, Arthur, a girl's gotta get laid sometimes,” she said, patting Arthur on the back as he sat up. “Seriously, I wish we could be like Dom and Mal. I'd have someone to get mushy with all the time. And bang all the time.”

“If the last time we tried to kiss taught me anything, Ariadne, it's that your gender doesn't really do it for me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“We'll find you someone to get all mushy with.”

Arthur stood up and started walking towards the back of the boat. The boat ambled steadily along the river, bright green hills and mountains jutting up along the banks and in the horizon. The murky brown waters of the Mekong lapped along the riverbanks. Ariadne mentioned that she hadn't seen a town since they'd left Luang Prabang. It was quiet, Arthur thought. Peaceful.

The boat itself was long, with rows and rows of seats, open sides and a roof. There was a small snack bar at the back where they basically sold chips and beer. Arthur and Ariadne walked past the bathrooms, past the room where the engine rumbled along, and into an open back where a few groups of people were sitting around, smoking cigarettes, and drinking beers.

Ariadne, having almost no social anxieties, plopped herself down by a few other people. “Hi! I'm Ariadne,” she announced.

One of the guys with dark hair, bright blue eyes and stellar cheekbones held out his hand. “Robert.”

“So formal,” she laughed, making a show of shaking Robert's hand.

“I'm Eames. Pleasure.” Another man held out his hand to her. He was British, wearing a white wifebeater, and ripped jeans. He had tattoos running down his arms and shoulders, some on his chest. He had a few days of stubble across his cheeks, and steely gray eyes. He had a cigarette dangling from a set of plush lips, and a beer in one of his hands. “And who, my dear, is your ravishing friend?”

He was gesturing to Arthur.

“Uh,” Arthur said. _Smooth,_ he thought.

“This is Arthur. Hands off, Eames, he is one of the good ones.” Arthur felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. “I will not have you corrupting him.”

“Ah, I see you've met dear Mal and Dom.” Eames smiled and gestured for them all to sit down.

Mal gave Arthur's shoulders a squeeze and smiled that lovely smile of hers. Dom followed behind her and sat down next to Ariadne. Arthur followed suite.

“Where did you guys meet?” Arthur asked.

“Nepal,” Eames said, taking a slow pull of his cigarette. “Didn't think I would be running into you two again. I thought you were off to France or America or what-have-you to settle down and have a pack of children.”

“Not quite,” Dom said. “We didn't feel ready to go home yet.” He gave Mal a tiny smile.

“Watch out for this one, Arthur, he is trouble!” Mal grinned and gestured to Eames.

“Am I, then?” Eames snorted, though there was no malice in it. “I suppose I am known to cause a little trouble. Well, _Arthur_ , Ariadne, let's get those typical questions out of the way. Where are you from, where are you going, and for how long?”

Arthur couldn't stop staring at his mouth.

“Well, I'm from LA, I've been traveling for, like, three months now just around Southeast Asia, and I'm basically seeing how long I can go before my money runs out,” Ariadne chimed in.

“Uh,” Arthur started, and cleared his throat. “I'm originally from Seattle, um, in the States. But I live in Vancouver, Canada. I'm going to be here around three months. Just been through Vietnam and Laos right now.”

“Ah, Americans! How fascinating.” Eames quirked an eyebrow up. He stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray behind him. “Beerlao, darling?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Arthur smiled. Ariadne was grinning right at him. Eames passed him the brown bottle and Arthur took a long drink.

They passed a bit of time drinking beer, and playing a few rounds of Crazy Eights. Turns out Robert was also from LA, but Beverly Hills, whereas Ariadne was living in North Hollywood. Robert needed a break from his crazy family life and decided that running away to the other side of the world would give him some much needed space. So far, he said, the further away he got, the better he felt.

Eames was originally from London, he said. He'd been traveling around for the past four years, though, settling down for awhile across Australia, New Zealand, and China. Now he's meandering through Southeast Asia to maybe stay and teach English in Thailand for awhile afterwards.

A few Beerlao in, and Arthur was feeling a little bit looser around the edges. He still couldn't keep his eyes off of Eames, with his strong arms and ridiculously lovely mouth. He could also swear after a few beers that Eames was honest-to-God _flirting_ with him. He kept looking over at Arthur and smirking, raising an eyebrow, and might have even winked once?

Arthur could feel his cheeks flushing, maybe not from just the beer.

“Arthur.” Ariadne nudged him, muttering in his ear. “That guy is _definitely_ flirting with you.”

“You think?” Arthur could feel his face splitting into a grin, dimples showing. He glanced over at Eames who raised his beer bottle to the two of them.

“Did you guys know,” Ariadne said, exaggeratedly pulling away from Arthur, “that Arthur hasn't gotten laid once in the whole time he's been away? How crazy is that? Especially with such an adorable face!”

Ariadne pinched his cheek. “Cut that out!” He swatted her away.

“That so, Arthur?” Eames chuckled as he lit another cigarette. “Isn't that half the point of backpacking? Meeting new people and rutting against them like a wild dog?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Maybe I'm just picky.”

“What's your type then?” Eames leaned forward, gray eyes positively twinkling.

 _You, pretty much,_ popped into Arthur's head uninvited. He wanted to say something smooth, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “It's really... specific.”

“That so?” His lips wrapped around the head of his beer bottle obscenely as he looked Arthur straight in the eyes.

 

-

 

They stopped for the night at a little town called Pakbeng, somewhere between Luang Prabang and the Thai border. It was tiny, but had lots of guesthouses, hotels and a few bars scattered around it. Backpacker friendly.

Arthur, Ariadne, Dom, Mal, Robert, and Eames all found themselves at a bar right on the river called Happy Bar, of all things, with Christmas lights and black lights strung up all over it. They served them free shots of banana whiskey right off the bat, and their mixed drinks were ridiculously strong.

“Oh my God, this is the strongest vodka Red Bull I've ever had,” Ariadne said, clearing her throat after taking a sip of the murky orange drink on the wood table.

“They told you to say when to stop pouring,” Dom cut in, laughing at her a bit.

“This country is crazy,” she giggled. “I have an idea. We should play a game of Never Have I Ever. Get to know each other a bit better!”

“That's a wonderful idea, darling,” Eames said, grinning cheekily. “I can begin. Let's start with something small. Never have I ever been to Disneyland.”

Arthur, Ariadne, and Dom all took drinks.

“Does Disneyland Paris count?” Mal asked.

“ _Any_ Disneyland,” Eames said.

She scoffed and took a sip.

Ariadne's head whipped over to Robert. “Wait, you live in LA and you've _never_ been to Disneyland?”

Robert shrugged. “Family never took me, I guess.”

“That's so sad!” she exclaimed. “That is, like, one of the saddest things I've ever heard. Even Arthur's been to Disneyland.”

“Okay, okay, enough. It's Mal's turn,” Dom said.

“Alright.” Mal shifted in her seat, looking thoughtful. “Never have I ever slept with a woman.”

“Getting right into now, aren't we?” Eames chuckled, taking a swig of his drink.

“That's just unfair,” Dom huffed, also taking a drink.

Arthur shrugged and put his drink down. Ariadne and Robert took tentative sips.

“Ariadne! I feel like I am learning so much about you,” Mal giggled, quirking an eyebrow at the other girl.

“Hey, college is an interesting time for us all,” she countered. “I can't believe Arthur's never slept with a girl _ever_.”

“Never got that far with a girl before I came out.” Arthur shrugged.

“Okay, my turn,” Ariadne sounded excited. “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Eames took a long drink, but no one else did. “I am apparently bad at this game.”

“My turn,” said Dom. “Never have I ever given a blowjob.”

Everyone at the table took a drink except Dom and Robert.

“Well, I've had my three. I lose,” Eames laughed a bit, downing the rest of his drink. “As fun as that was, we should be finding a place to stay tonight. Arthur, would you like to split a room with me, darling?”

Arthur was caught off guard. He nearly choked on his drink. Everyone at the table started wolf-whistling and laughing. “Uh, I mean, um—”

“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, love. If it would make you more comfortable, we could get a room with two beds.”

Eames's eyes were twinkling under the strung up Christmas lights. Arthur wanted to scream out _Hell yes_ , but didn't want to come off as desperate. Ariadne kicked his shin under the table.

The alcohol must be getting to him, because before he could think too much about it, “Yeah, sure,” tumbled out of his mouth.

Eames smirked and stood up. “Lovely. I have a flyer for a quaint little place up the hill if you'd join me.”

Arthur nodded dumbly and stood up as well. “I'll, uh, meet you by the boats in the morning, okay?” he said to Ariadne, who had a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Go get'em, tiger,” she snickered, giving his thigh a little smack.

He and Eames collected their backpacks and started up the hill along the little town's main strip. Eames pulled out a cigarette from a crumpled pack of Marlboro Reds. “Would you like one?” he asked Arthur.

“Sure,” Arthur replied. He was feeling edgy, a little dangerous, and had a nice buzz from the banana whiskey and Red Bulls. He lit it with Eames's lighter, inhaling a little too deeply. He tried not to cough too much and come off as lame, he really did. But he didn't smoke, ever, and it burned on the way down.

“Never have you ever had a cigarette, I'm guessing, Arthur?”

“Shut up,” Arthur grunted, steadying himself and taking another drag. It seemed to go down easier this time.

“How old are you, darling?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Ah, and a little bit sheltered, I'm supposing.”

“A little. Maybe.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “It's why I'm here. Broadening my horizons. Seeing the world while I still can, before I'm stuck at some job getting two weeks off per year.”

“I see.” Eames hummed a little around the filter of his cigarette. “It doesn't have to be like that. Your future, that is.”

“What, so I run away for four years to teach English wherever I go?”

Eames had an unreadable look on his face, and stayed quiet for a moment. Shit. He was ruining it.

“Sorry. That was kind of an asshole-y thing to say. I don't really know anything about you.”

Eames's lips quirked up at the corners a bit. “I do more than teach English, pet. I farm sometimes too.”

Arthur let out a relieved laugh. He followed Eames up the steps to a colonial looking house that had been painted lime green and converted into a hotel.

“Room for the two of us,” Eames told the tiny woman at the front desk. He paid for it in whole, shushing Arthur when he tried to put down any money. “Buy me breakfast tomorrow, and we shall consider it even.”

Arthur may have blushed just a little at the implication behind that. They walked up a flight of stairs to their room, swung the door open and dropped their bags to the ground.

“Only one bed,” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow at Eames.

“So sorry, love, must be some kind of mistake.” The look on his face was impish. “It looks rather comfortable, though, so I'm hard-pressed to complain."

“Let's find out, then,” Arthur said, pushing Eames backwards onto the bed. Where was this sudden boldness coming from? Maybe it was the alcohol, caffeine and nicotine. Or maybe it was the constant flirting all day; or the intoxicating combination of being in a foreign country, with an attractive guy who was _clearly_ interested. Or maybe it was all the pent-up sexual energy from not being laid in _months_.

It didn't matter what it was when he climbed on top of Eames, and pressed their lips together fiercely. He fisted the sheets beside Eames's head, and groaned when his hands cupped the back of Arthur's head, bringing them closer. Their mouths opened, and Arthur licked along Eames's ridiculous lips. Eames nipped lightly at Arthur's lower lips, earning a little jump from Arthur.

Eames laughed and pulled Arthur's head back a little. “Eager little minx, aren't you?” His voice was breathy and thick with lust.

Arthur smirked and sat up. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, and Eames did the same. Arthur licked his lips as he raked his eyes over Eames's body—toned, tattooed and glistening lightly with sweat from the heat. Arthur's head was swimming slightly, from the drink or lust, he wasn't sure.

Eames rolled them over. “I'm going to give you a little treat, love. Sit back and relax.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to Arthur's mouth, before moving his lips over Arthur's chin, jaw, neck. He nipped a trail down Arthur's collarbone to his sternum, big, calloused hands running down his ribs to the waistband of his shorts.

Arthur squirmed a little under Eames's touch. His body was heating up, cock straining against his shorts. His heart felt like it was going to beat through his chest. “Eames—”

“Shush,” Eames hissed.

Arthur thumped his head against the pillow behind his head, letting out a frustrated noise. Eames grinned against Arthur's stomach, stubble sending electric shocks through his body. Arthur whined, trying to push the other man's head further down.

Eames shook his head and finally— _finally—_ peeled Arthur's shorts off his hips. His cock bounced free and Arthur took in a tiny shocked breath of air. Eames smirked and his tongue popped out between his lips, licking the lightest of stripes along Arthur's dick.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Arthur groaned, trying to buck his hips up. “Eames, please, come on...”

“So impatient, darling,” Eames chuckled. He took the head of Arthur's cock into that fucking _gorgeous_ mouth.

“Oh my God,” Arthur breathed out. It felt _amazing_. So warm, wet, with just the right amount of gentle suction... and then Eames did that thing with his _tongue_ and hums around his cock. “Fuck. Oh my God. Eames—”

Arthur grips Eames's hair, trying to stop his hips from bucking up and choking him. Eames's head was bobbing over his cock, pace quickening. Arthur's eyes squeezed shut and his back arched. He was getting so _close._

“It's okay, love,” Eames mumbled, hand jerking Arthur's dick. “Go on.” His mouth was back, tongue swirling around the head.

Arthur let out a shout, and his entire body went taut. “ _Eames—”_

Eames kept his mouth on Arthur as he jerked through his orgasm. When Arthur slumped back on the bed, panting and sweaty, Eames pulled off and swallowed, wiping his mouth off.

“You're so sexy, oh my God,” Arthur mumbled, putting his hands over his face.

“I'm glad that was good for you, darling.” Eames smiled fondly, pressing a gentle kiss to Arthur's flushed cheek.

Arthur nodded and opened his eyes just a bit. “What about you?”

“Don't worry about that. Breakfast tomorrow, remember?”

Arthur smiled, cheeks dimpling. “Sure,” he muttered as he curled up in the soft sheets and drifted to sleep.

 


	2. Chiang Mai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiang Mai is an interesting place. Ariadne and Arthur try and think of something fun to do in Chiang Mai on Valentine's Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad I got this chapter finished! I have ideas for more chapters, so I'll try and get those written soon. Work is pretty busy right now, so it might be a little while, but I'm certainly going to try.

_Eames,_

_I just wanted to say that I had a really good time with you in Pakbeng and on the boat. If you're in Chiang Mai in the next few days, it would be really pleasant to see you again._

_Regards,_

_Arthur_

 

Arthur stared at his laptop screen with a burning intensity. Pleasant to see you? What a dumb way of saying he'd been thinking about Eames ever since that night. Stupid. Get rid of that. Also, signing off with “regards”? How ridiculously formal was he trying to make this e-mail to what was essentially a one night stand?

“Get it together,” he sighed out loud.

 

_Hey, Eames!_

_I was just wondering if you're going to be in Chiang Mai in the next little while. It would be really great to see you again. ;)_

_Arthur_

 

That was even worse than the last one. What was with that _winky face_? No. Too much innuendo. It would come off like he just wanted to see Eames for sex, which wasn't entirely off the mark, but a little too blunt for Arthur's tastes.

 

_Eames,_

_I'm going to be in Chiang Mai for the next few days or so. If you're around, message me back._

_Arthur_

 

Arthur read the message over and over again, eyebrows knit into a tight line. “Better.”

He hovered over the send button for what felt like ages, wondering if he would come off as too forward—or worse, desperate—if he sent this e-mail after only saying goodbye to Eames a week ago. Would he think Arthur was using him as a booty call? Would he think that Arthur couldn't lure another handsome traveler back to bed? Would he think that there was something _wrong_ with Arthur because he couldn't get laid? Would the message just scare him off forever?

“This is stupid,” Arthur mumbled to himself, and shut his laptop without sending anything, for probably the dozenth time since he and Eames had parted way.

After the boat had docked in Huay Xai, and they all crossed the border into Thailand, Eames had told them all that he and Robert were planning on staying in Chiang Khong, and probably going to Chiang Rai afterwards. Arthur, Ariadne, Dom, and Mal were all taking a bus to Pai, to stay for a week or so. Arthur was disappointed that they had to leave Eames and Robert so soon, but Eames had promised to write him.

Apparently, Eames didn't have Facebook, or a phone, which made getting a hold of him a little difficult. But they had swapped e-mail addresses, and then hugged and went their separate ways.

A week and a bit later, and Arthur hadn't heard a word from Eames. He even checked his spam folders and everything, and felt like a bit of a loser at how disappointed he was that there was nothing in there. So he started and deleted a bunch of e-mails to Eames, but never sent them for fear of looking desperate or creepy.

And now he found himself frustrated in common room of his hostel, in the early morning of Valentine's Day in Chiang Mai.

He shoved his laptop back into his bag and decided to maybe try and track down something tasty for breakfast, to get his mind off of the attractive British man invading his thoughts. It didn't help that food vendors lining the streets of the city sold phallic meats all hours of the day. It also didn't help that the sausages were cheap and delicious and Arthur could _really_ go for one, but every time he passed a stall, Eames came to mind like a Freudian slip of his brain.

Damn him.

Arthur decided to just go for the 'Western Breakfast' at his hostel—white toast, a sunny side up egg, a boiled hot dog, and some baked beans. He was stabbing somewhat angrily at the rubbery hot dog when Ariadne came plodding down the stairs, still in her pyjamas and flip-flops.

“What's got you in a mood this morning?” She smirked down at the flayed hot dog on Arthur's plate. “Let me guess. You're mad that it's Valentine's Day and your _lover boy_ isn't here to show you a good time.”

“No. I hardly remembered it was Valentine's Day today. It's just a holiday made up for us in the West so we buy more cards in the middle of the winter, anyway,” Arthur scoffed.

Ariadne laughed boisterously, flopping down on the bench in front of the table beside Arthur. “Yeah, well, I'd be mad if _I_ got stood up on Valentine's Day too.”

“I can't be stood up if I don't have any _plans_ or anything, Ariadne.” Arthur pushed his plate away and rested his chin in his hands. If anything, he was feeling upset at Eames for not even bothering to give him a second thought. What was he expecting though? For them to fall madly in love after hooking up for _one night_ and then stealing off into the night together to travel the world, like Dom and Mal? No. Arthur was far too practical for anything like that. He had plans for when he got back home, and responsibilities. He couldn't just pick up and run away with a random stranger.

Not that he _wanted_ to, or thought about it. Or fantasized about it. Ever.

“Well, you know, Arthur, since Dom and Mal are going to be off being all gross and romantic somewhere, I figured you and I should do something way more awesome.” She had a lecherous grin on her face.

Arthur eyed her suspiciously. “What did you have in mind?”

“You'll see. Just trust me. It's going to be amazing.”

“I am both intrigued and terrified.”

 

-

 

Arthur didn't know what he was feeling as he entered the dimly lit bar later that evening. There was a thin layer of haze around the entire place, and it smelled vaguely like the food cooking outside, mixed with an outhouse, and then mixed with a fruity cocktail. He was nervous, excited, a little tipsy already, and maybe a little turned on.

A ladyboy cabaret. That was Ariadne's idea.

The perfect Valentine's Day activity, she said. She told him, as they were entering the venue, that it was like a drag show that you would see back in the west, but with more real boobs. Arthur wasn't sure what to expect. He'd heard whispers about these kind of shows through his travels, but had never felt any real desire to go to one. But he supposed if Ariadne wanted to go, it couldn't be too terrible of a time.

They ordered themselves a couple of beers from one of the ladyboys wandering around serving them. Arthur blushed terribly when she gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek when he tipped her.

The show started and, to Ariadne's credit, she was pretty much right. It _was_ like a drag show you'd see back in the west. It was all lip-syncing to famous pop songs, sequins, feathers, and dancing. Arthur couldn't help but gawk at some of the girls' bodies—where did they get them _done_? They were almost beyond perfect.

“Oh my God, these girls look better in lingerie than I do!” Ariadne squawked into Arthur's ear.

Arthur couldn't help but laugh at that. He was starting to feel a little fuzzy around the edges by his third drink about halfway through the show.

“This was a good idea!” Arthur nearly shouted into Ariadne's ear, the music swallowing his voice.

“I know! I'm a genius!”

She slung an arm over Arthur's shoulders and nuzzled his arm. Arthur felt a swell of affection for her. He wrapped one of his arms around her waist and squeezed her tightly. “I'm glad I met you!”

He wasn't sure if she heard, or if the loud music overtook him completely. It wasn't a lie—Ariadne was probably the best friend he could remember having, even in the short amount of time they'd know each other. They just clicked together—she was so exuberant, with Arthur generally being somewhat unsure and even shy. She brought him out of his shell.

Ariadne cheered loudly as one of the ladyboys came on stage, dressed in the _skimpiest_ lingerie imaginable. Her perfect, perky breasts were on display, with tiny lace black panties, a garter belt and fishnets on. Rihanna's _S &M _started playing and Arthur buried his face in his hands.

He didn't really look up until he felt a tug on his arm. Looking down at him was the same ladyboy from the stage and Arthur gaped. Was she trying to get him to come on stage?

Ariadne gave him a hard shove, making him stumble out of his chair and onto the stage. He was plunked down onto a wooden chair on stage, and then the ladyboy started _grinding_ on him.

Arthur was pretty sure he could feel his entire body turn beet red. He sat straight as a board in the chair and tried to keep himself from squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment. He laughed nervously as the ladyboy danced around him skillfully, running her hands over his chest, and legs. Arthur could feel himself sweating profusely, but tried to play it cool. So many people were staring at him, cheering, jeering, and goading them on.

Eventually, the song did end— _finally—_ and Arthur scurried back to his seat after giving the ladyboy an awkward hug.

Ariadne was having a field day. She had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard. “Oh my _God,_ Arthur! That was amazing!”

“Speak for yourself,” he huffed, burying his face into his hands once again.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice said behind them, “fancy seeing you two here.”

Arthur whipped his head around, and if he wasn't embarrassed _before_ , he certainly was now, because there stood Eames, looking tall and tanned and perfect.

Eames pulled up a stool to their table, a cheeky grin spread across his face. “Arthur,” he purred, “I knew you liked to have fun, darling, but I never expected to see you in a place like this.”

Arthur was going to try and give a snarky reply, but the music started back up and drowned whatever he was going to say. Eames just laughed and ruffled Arthur's hair.

The rest of the show went uneventfully, with Ariadne ordering them shots of whiskey, and more beers, and then more shots. By the time the ladyboys were taking their final bows, Arthur's head was feeling light and airy from all the liquor. His limbs felt loose and his eyes felt a little heavy, but he couldn't stop looking at Eames.

He was the same as Arthur remembered, with maybe a little bit more scruff on his face and a little bit more sun. His shoulders were peeling slightly from what looked like an old sunburn, and he was wearing a black t-shirt and loose-fitting cargo shorts.

“That was so fun,” Ariadne gushed as they stumbled out of the bar. “I am, like, so drunk now though. Seriously, Eames, it was so good to see you, but I really have to go back to our hostel or I'm going to pass out in a ditch somewhere. Maybe I'll get some mystery street meat on the way home... oh my God, Arthur, do you want some mystery meat?”

“That sounds incredibly dirty,” Arthur snorted, nudging Ariadne slightly.

“No! That's not what I meant!” She was slurring and stumbling a bit, hanging off of Arthur. “I'm going back to the hostel. I'm going to die otherwise.”

Arthur gave her a hug. “I think I'm going to stay and hang out with Eames a bit. I'll meet you back there?”

“Oh, _okay,_ lover-boy. Don't do anything I wouldn't do then!” Ariadne squeezed him back, then rushed off and piled into a tuktuk.

Arthur shook his head, waving goodbye as Ariadne drove past them.

Eames turned and looked at Arthur. “So, spending a little time with me, then, are you?”

“You don't mind, do you? If you have other plans, I can go back and go to bed.”

“Darling,” Eames scoffed, “why would I ever pass up the opportunity to have you all to myself?”

Arthur couldn't help but grin at that. It was seldom that anyone ever made him feel wanted like that—desirable. But Eames did it without even trying.

“I know a little bar down the street that plays some decent music, if you'd like to go?” Eames said.

“Sure.” Arthur shrugged, feeling lighter than air.

They turned down the busy streets, snaking through crowds of people. The air smelled like grilling meat, tamarind and soy sauce. People moved in droves, tuktuks beeping their horns and expertly weaving around them. Arthur gripped onto Eames's hand, so he didn't lose him as they moved through the streets and alleyways.

Eames tugged Arthur into a bar off of one of the alleys. Loud house music pumped through the dimly lit place. The inside was crowded with people drinking, dancing, and sweating. The entire bar was lit with black lights, causing the UV reactive decor to glow brightly.

Eames ordered them a couple of drinks at the bar—something with vodka and some kind of soda, from the taste of it—and then tugged Arthur to the packed dance floor. He took a long sip of his drink, and wrapped his other arm around Arthur's waist, pulling them flush together.

Arthur could feel his heart pounding in his chest as they moved together, bass thumping in his ears. He could feel Eames's breath hot against his neck and ear. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt Eames's tongue snake out and flick cheekily over his earlobe.

Arthur was starting to get dizzy with the heat of Eames's body pressed against him, the low lights, the loud music, and the alcohol coursing through his system. He grabbed the back of Eames's shirt with his free hand, and ground their hips together. Eames growled hungrily in Arthur's ear, and grabbed onto his hip.

Arthur decided to throw caution to the wind, and kissed Eames. He immediately opened his mouth, and they rolled their tongues together. Arthur couldn't stop—kissing Eames just felt so _good_ and he wanted him so _badly_. Arthur felt a moan claw out of him, and he started grinding against Eames like a horny teenager. His hand started roaming freely over Eames's body. They needed to get out of there _now_.

“I tried writing to you a bunch of times,” Arthur blurted out against Eames's mouth. _Why_ did he say that?

Eames just laughed, and pulled Arthur out of the bar, back onto the streets.

“Why didn't you write to me?” Arthur grumbled. The liquor must really be getting to him now. He was starting to say whatever popped into his head.

“Arthur,” Eames sighed. “Look, darling, we're both traveling. I wasn't sure I was ever going to see you again. Can't we just have fun together while we have the time?”

Arthur wrinkled his nose up and stared unsteadily at Eames. “Maybe you should stick around longer than a couple of days.”

Eames shook his head and leaned over to kiss Arthur on the cheek. “I shall do my very best.”

Arthur nodded dumbly as Eames tugged him down a tiny alleyway. It was dark, and surprisingly deserted. It also stank like a sewer, but all those thoughts left Arthur's head when Eames shoved him against the wall and started kissing him again, fierce and hungry. Arthur shut his eyes and kissed back best he could. Eames was pressed against him, holding him against the wall with his body.

Arthur wasn't sure what it was—the alcohol, the smell of the alley, or the adrenaline from kissing a stupidly attractive British man—but his stomach started to turn into knots. Nausea swept over him like a wave, quick and ferocious. “Eames.”

“I want you so badly, Arthur,” Eames growled, pulling back and moving his mouth over Arthur's neck and ear.

“Eames—”

“You have no idea what you do to me.” His tongue licked a long stripe over the outline of Arthur's ear.

“No, seriously, Eames—”

It was too late. Arthur shoved Eames back and immediately started vomiting all over the stinking alleyway.

Eames seemed to be struck dumb for a moment, before springing into action. As Arthur heaved out the day's contents of beer, shots, and a lackluster breakfast, Eames rubbed his back gently, muttering comforting nonsense.

When he was finished, Arthur managed to mutter, “Sorry.”

“Quite alright,” Eames let out a breathy laugh. “Maybe we should get you back to your hostel. Sleep it off?”

Arthur was going to protest, but as he opened his eyes and the world started spinning on its axis, it died in his throat. He could only nod and lean against Eames, as they stumbled out of the alley.

 


	3. Bangkok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and update this thing at least once a week. I hope you're all enjoying it so far!

Arthur wondered why he put himself in these positions. Did he enjoy being embarrassed and uncomfortable? It certainly didn't _feel_ like he did, but then if he didn't, why was he constantly seeking it out? Maybe it was a deeply buried sexual thing. Maybe he was some kind of emotional masochist, just wanting to be tormented by falling for people he could never have.

It was like his teenage crush on Ryan Gosling, only he could _touch_ and _kiss_ and _physically be with_ Eames. But it was just some holiday fling, right? So then _why_ , he asks himself, does he feel his heart swell whenever Eames smiles at him? Why does every little touch and joke turn him into a puddle of mush?

He was so screwed.

Arthur was beating himself up in the middle of the night, after being woken up for maybe the thousandth time on the bumpy bus ride from Chiang Mai to Bangkok. He checked the time on his phone—three in the morning—and screamed internally because they still had another three-to-five hours to go. Eames was fast asleep beside him, wrapped up in one of the thin, smelly blankets they gave out on the bus. Maybe he _should_ have taken Eames up when he offered a couple Valium. It certainly seemed to do the trick.

Arthur scowled at Eames's relaxed, stupid, handsome face. He liked Eames, probably more than he should. He liked his easy going nature, how simple things were when they were together, how he could make Arthur laugh without trying. He liked his strong arms when they draped over Arthur's shoulders, and his hands when they were in Arthur's hair. He liked his face, his ridiculously plush lips, and his stubble that never seems to go away even when he shaves.

Arthur suddenly wished Ariadne were there, instead of running off to Kanchanaburi for a couple days with Robert Fischer. Or even Dom or Mal, who had decided to go to Pai. Instead he was stuck with Eames— _alone—_ for at least two days.

Arthur wasn't sure how he was going to handle it.

 

-

 

They arrived in Bangkok sometime after seven in the morning. It was hot already, hotter than in Chiang Mai. The air felt thicker somehow. It was loud, with people tearing down little stalls lining the streets, and other vendors setting up little food stalls for the morning. Delicious smells starting wafting from the stalls and as Arthur shouldered his giant backpack, he felt his stomach growl.

He was grumpy from running on almost no sleep, and now he was felt like he was _starving_.

Eames sauntered off the bus, stretching languidly and causing his t-shirt to ride up just a bit. Arthur was pretty sure he was staring but couldn't _help_ it.

“What a pleasant ride. Think I slept the entire time. How about you, Arthur dear?”

Arthur grunted noncommittally and rubbed at his eyes. “Hungry. Tired. Need coffee.”

“Take it you didn't sleep so well then.” Eames smirked and came up and pinched Arthur's cheek.

Arthur batted his hand away and wrinkled his nose up. “Stop it.”

“Well, maybe breakfast is in order before we find a hostel. There's a 7-11 around here that sells those delightful little cans of iced coffee. Follow me.”

Eames was so damn chipper. He _should_ be, he slept like a baby on that bus, all drugged up on Valium. Bastard.

Arthur was feeling a little less grouchy as soon as soon as they got coffees and food—some pad thai from one of the street vendors. They sat together on some street corner near Khao San Road—according to Eames, it was the big backpacker and party hub in Bangkok—and ate their pad thai. It was relatively quiet at that time in the morning, and it was a nice way to spend a bit of time with Eames outside of drinking, partying, making out and groping each other.

Arthur let out content sigh as he stuffed more noodles in his mouth. He leaned his head over and rested it against Eames's shoulder. He could fall asleep right there, with the sun starting to rise over Bangkok, the heat wrapping around him like a blanket, Eames's firm shoulders a pillow...

“First time in Bangkok, Arthur?”

Arthur nodded, taking a swig of iced coffee as tuktuks raced along the streets. He rubbed his face more against Eames's arm.

“I have an idea for after breakfast then.” Eames grinned, wrapping an arm around Arthur's waist. “It'll get you more oriented with the city.”

“Sure.” Arthur shrugged. He didn't really care what they did, as long as they were doing it together.

 

-

 

Turns out, Bangkok looked really pretty floating by on a boat.

Arthur would have laughed at the romanticism of it all. They met on a boat and now they're having a—what? A date?—on a boat. It was corny and Arthur didn't want to admit it, but it made him feel sort of warm and fuzzy.

Turns out there was a water taxi that went around on a loop around Bangkok. The entire loop took maybe an hour and a half and cost a couple of dollars. It went past all the major sights in the city, and Eames said spending a bit of time by the water while city heated up wasn't the worst idea. And it _was_ starting to get hot. Thankfully there was also a pleasant breeze rolling off the river, mussing up Arthur's hair.

Arthur leaned back in the plastic bench and watched as the temples on the horizon grew closer. The spires seemed to reach up into the sky, wrapped in reds, whites, and grays, seeming to glitter under the low-lying sun.

“That's the Temple of Dawn over there,” Eames said, pointing to the gray temple with a large tower in the middle, and four other smaller towers around it. Eames was leaning over Arthur and pointing out the side of the boat, his breath hot on Arthur's neck. “Beautiful during sunrise.”

“You've been to Bangkok before, then?” Arthur shifted slightly, not sure whether to move closer or further away from Eames.

“Of course. When I was living in Australia, I used to fly to Thailand for a cheap vacation. Always loved Bangkok, though. This city is all kinds of insane and beautiful all at once.”

Arthur nodded, deciding to lean back against Eames just tiniest bit. He felt so cozy, Eames's solid form against his back, cool breeze brushing against his face, smell of river water in his nose. It was quieter on the water somehow as well, the noise of Bangkok traffic far away.

“Why have you been traveling for so long, Eames?” Arthur asked. It was something he had been meaning to ask for awhile, but had never found a proper opportunity to do so.

“Arthur,” Eames faltered, “it's really not that interesting a story, love.”

“Well, we have time.” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “We're going to be on this boat for another hour or so. And besides, I feel like I don't know that much about you. I feel like it's a pretty normal question to ask.”

Arthur immediately regretted asking when Eames pulled away, letting out a long sigh. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, his gray eyes far away. “It's not the happiest story.”

“Okay,” Arthur said, slowly, “Eames, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, you know.”

“No, no. I'll tell you.” Eames shifted in his seat, squaring his shoulders. “Well, to put it bluntly, my childhood was difficult. My father was a gambler, and my mother was an enabler. Apparently she tried to stop it a few times, but he was also a drinker, and drink made him violent. My mother finally left when I was fifteen, when my father had whittled down all our savings, and sold off most of our worldly possessions. I haven't heard from her since then.

“So, I was stuck with my father through my teenage years. I started working under the table where I could, and hid the money in a hole in my bedroom wall. When I was eighteen, I had enough to apply for a working holiday visa in Australia. When I got it, I bought a one-way ticket and never looked back.”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find _something_ to say. All that came out, though, was, “Oh.”

Suddenly, his problems at home didn't seem so bad.

“Sorry that was so terribly depressing, darling, it's not my usual _modus operandi_.” There was a slight smirk tugging at the corners of Eames's lips.

Arthur relaxed slightly at that, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Is that why you don't have Facebook or anything like a normal person?”

Eames laughed at that, and Arthur's heart could just burst. “You are quite right. Don't really want to be found. Eames might not even be my real name.”

“You'd _choose_ to be named after a chair?”

Eames's smile was blinding, bright and cheery, with a little chuckle behind it. Arthur tried to return it best he could. They returned to sitting in a comfortable silence, watching as the temples and pagodas around them changed into towering glass skyscrapers. Arthur was having a good time. He was surprised, because earlier he felt so anxious about being alone with Eames, but Eames made it easy. It was easy to make him smile and make him laugh. Arthur had never thought of himself as _funny_ before, but Eames made him feel like he was.

Arthur looked down at Eames's hand resting on his own thigh. Taking a chance, he reached down and gently grabbed it, lacing his fingers with Eames's. Arthur felt his heartbeat quicken when Eames squeezed his hand, an easy smile on his lips.

Arthur closed his eyes and let the Bangkok skyline pass by them.

 

-

 

Later that night, Arthur found himself sitting along a street near Khao San Road in a little plastic chair, eating some kind of curry and drinking a large beer. The restaurant behind him had a live guitarist playing an Eric Clapton song. Arthur silently wondered when he would start playing _Wonderwall,_ and smirked to himself.

Eames was sitting across from him, far too large for the tiny plastic chair he was sitting in, but he seemed comfortable. He was drinking a rum and coke that was mostly rum, and tapping his foot along with musician. Occasionally, his eyes would flick over to Arthur, and occasionally Arthur would catch them. They would both smile at each other then, like there was some private joke between them.

This was good. It was comfortable.

All Arthur wanted to do, though, was drag Eames back to the private room they were sharing and do filthy things to him. It took everything in Arthur not to just vault over the tiny table and kiss Eames right there. Those lips were just _so_ inviting.

“So, Arthur, should we go check out the festivities on Khao San tonight?”

“I don't know. I think I might be done with drinking for a little while.”

“Ah, yes. The last time we tried going out, it didn't exactly end so spectacularly.” Eames's grin was positively wolfish.

Arthur felt his cheeks flush at that. “Which is exactly _why_ I don't entirely feel like drinking.”

“But how often are you going to be in Bangkok, darling? We should at least go and have a wander.”

Arthur groaned, maybe a little melodramatically. Eames was right. He was only in Asia for a limited amount of time, and he should try and make the most of it. He _also_ should try and ease up on the alcohol consumption, though. “Fine. Okay. Just for a little bit though. To have a _wander_.”

They paid up and made their way to the madness that was Khao San Road at night. There were vendors on every corner of the street. There were people selling woven bracelets, beer, kebabs, mystery meat on sticks, and _deep fried scorpions._

“Ever had one of these?” Eames asked, pointing to the scorpions. “They're actually not bad. Mostly just taste blandly crunchy and deep fried.”

“I'd rather not,” Arthur said, trying not to gag as a gaggle of teenage girls squealed as one of the braver ones bit into a scorpion tail.

“No sense of adventure, darling.”

They continued down the road, music pumping out from every bar they went down. Eames ended up pulling Arthur into one advertising two-for-one shots and made him take a couple. Arthur's stomach protested, but he was determined to keep it down tonight. Tonight was going to be different than the last time they were out.

“What're those?” Arthur asked as they pushed their way out of the bar, gesturing to people inhaling and exhaling out of colourful balloons.

“Whip-Its!” Eames exclaimed. “Arthur, dear, have you never heard of Whip-Its?”

“You mean nitrous oxide?” Arthur wrinkled his nose. “Like, laughing gas?”

“Of course. It's actually quite fun. There's a reason it's called _laughing gas_. Would you like to try it?”

“Uh,” Arthur looked over at the groups of people stumbling and laughing as they inhaled. Before he could give an answer, though, Eames was waltzing over to the vendor and buying a couple balloons.

“Alright, love, so don't let go of the spout until you're ready to inhale. Just breathe in and out when you do.” Eames fucking _winked_ at him at that.

Arthur grabbed the spout of the balloon and stared at it reluctantly. “Here goes nothing, I guess.”

Arthur decided then that Whip-Its were fucking stupid. He inhaled and exhaled until he felt his brain turn off and he almost passed out. He ended up almost falling into Eames, and Eames had the audacity to giggle uncontrollably at him. Eames wrapped an arm around Arthur's shoulders and wouldn't stop laughing. Arthur shook the feeling out of his head and let his balloon fly into the air.

“That was _dumb.”_

“Well... they are better if you're a little bit off your face already,” Eames snickered. “Let's get another beer in you, shall we?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but followed anyways. Eames dipped into another bar, and Arthur waited around the entrance. Despite himself, he was having fun. He liked having Eames all to himself without any distractions, and he couldn't wait until they got back to their room and have the night continue there.

Arthur looked over the crowd of people, looking for Eames at the bar. He spotted him leaning against the bar, talking to some short girl, with long, curly blonde hair. They were smiling and laughing together, and Arthur felt a pang of jealousy, despite not knowing what they were talking about. That only intensified when he saw Eames _touching_ the girl on the arm, and brushing a piece of hair away from her face.

_What the fuck._

Arthur's heart sank when he saw Eames lean forward, and from what Arthur could tell,  _kiss_ her. Arthur felt frozen in place, and he felt all heat leave his body for a split second. It all came rushing back a moment later, though, all to his face. He felt humiliated and angry. He felt stupid for thinking that maybe Eames actually liked him, that maybe he wasn't just some easy lay that was just there.

Arthur turned on his heels and stormed out without a glance back.

He rushed back to the room he was supposed to be sharing with Eames. His limbs felt electric, his hands clenching and unclenching with pent up energy he didn't know what to do with. He grabbed a pillow closest to him and let out a _scream_ into it.

He had no right to be angry. Eames didn't belong to him. Eames wasn't his boyfriend. Logically, Eames could go around and make out and fuck whoever he wanted. But Arthur's feelings _weren't_ logical. He wanted Eames to be his, at least for a little while. Arthur felt hurt and anger bloom in his chest, and it felt like it was going to rip him apart. _Idiot_ , he thought, _stupid stupid stupid._

He glared at the twin bed in the room that was supposed to be Eames's. With all the frustration in his body, he kicked it. The metal bed frame squealed across the floor, the sound hanging heavy in the air.

Arthur sat down on his bed and pressed his face into his pillow.

What was he going to do now?

 


End file.
